


alive on the precipice

by azurrys



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Biting, Bruises, Chronic Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurrys/pseuds/azurrys
Summary: Sanada will fight, always, until the day Yukimura no longer has to walk that precarious balance on the precipice.
Relationships: Sanada Genichirou/Yukimura Seiichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	alive on the precipice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vandoorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/gifts).



> Based on Stray Kids' MIROH, specifically this moment [here](https://youtu.be/Dab4EENTW5I?t=159).

Sanada's footsteps echo across the open roof, the dark cement tinted gold by the evening sunlight. It slants across the ground in faint rays, glinting off the metal water tank with a blinding gleam — illuminating Yukimura's silhouette like a spotlight where he's perched on the edge of the building. It's a familiar sight, but seeing Yukimura lounging on the parapet so calmly, as if it's a comfortable seat rather than a precipice, never fails to make Sanada's heart skip a beat. 

"Yukimura." The faint incline of his head is the only reply Sanada gets, but he knows that Yukimura is listening. He always is. "The recon unit returned. No casualties. The data is being processed." It's encrypted, of course, but Renji will pull through. He always does. "Would you like to hear their report now?" 

"Hmm." Sanada can't see Yukimura's face from this angle, but he can imagine it: his eyes closed in thought, calm and impassive. "Tomorrow morning will do. I think they've earned some rest, don't you?" 

Sanada grunts in reply. Niou will be happy to hear that, but he's not sure about him having _earned_ that rest. From what he'd gleaned from their brief conversation, Yagyuu seemed to have done most of the work… or maybe it had been the other way around. "Alright. I'll let them know." 

In the brief moment of silence that ensues, Sanada knows that Yukimura is listening for his footsteps. But he doesn't turn back; rather, when he moves again, it's to approach, walking closer until he can lean over the parapet by Yukimura's side. His eyes slide surreptitiously over to where Yukimura's legs dangle down in the open air. There's nothing between him and the hundred-metre fall to the ground. If someone just came up behind him and pushed — 

"Do you think I'm about to jump?" Yukimura's voice is soft as always, tinged with amusement. Sanada jerks, glancing away, but it's too late. Yukimura has noticed, as he always does. "You know I wouldn't." _You trust me not to throw my life away when I'm always fighting so hard to hold on to it._

"I know." Sanada casts his gaze forwards, refusing to look down at the ground. He _does_ know, but the words still sound empty. They're always fighting together — him and Yukimura and the rest of the team — but the one fight that he's never been able to help in, the one that Yukimura has always had to suffer alone, always leaves a shred of fear brewing in the pit of his gut. 

He trusts Yukimura with absolute conviction, knows that he'll never give up, but seeing him on the literal precipice never fails to remind Sanada that he wanders on its edge every day. Sanada isn't afraid he'll jump. He's afraid that one day, Yukimura will lose his balance. 

"Sanada." Yukimura's voice is gentle, but chiding. Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, Sanada whips around with his heart in his throat — just in time to see Yukimura swing his legs over the parapet, landing lightly on his feet in front of Sanada. Yukimura hooks an arm around his waist, stepping so close that their noses almost brush. At this distance, Sanada can see how pale Yukimura's lips are where they curve up into a smile, the warmth of the expression not nearly making up for the tired lines at the corners of his eyes. "I'm right here." He reaches for Sanada's wrist, drawing the hand to his pulse point. Sanada feels the steady thrum beneath his fingertips, the most solid proof of life he could ask for. 

Yukimura knows that's what he needs. 

Yukimura is clearly expecting it when Sanada leans in, tilting his head back and letting go of Sanada's hand to allow him to replace it with his mouth. Sanada feels Yukimura's pulse speed up against his lips, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath when his teeth graze Yukimura's skin a second before he sinks them in. Yukimura trembles against him as he nibbles and sucks on the sensitive point, desperately chasing the sensation of his pounding pulse — the reassurance that Yukimura is still here, alive if not well. 

There's a bright bruise blossoming on Yukimura's skin when Sanada finally forces himself to pull back, and the lurid purple of it might have embarrassed him if it hadn't been a sight that he was long used to. Yukimura always forgives him for it. He lets Sanada mark him up as much as he wants; he never begrudges Sanada those few moments that he takes to reassure himself. 

"I won't die, Sanada." Yukimura's voice is unwavering in its conviction. "We've come this far. What kind of leader would I be if I gave up now?" 

"Sometimes the choice isn't up to you." The reply slips out before Sanada can stop himself. Yukimura looks briefly taken aback, but in the next moment his expression softens into a smile again. He cups his hand around Sanada's cheek, his skin soft and cool where they touch. 

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean I can't fight it." His fingers curl, thumb rubbing along the edge of Sanada's cheekbone. "Remember our motto, Sanada. The law of Rikkai. Isn't that what we live by?" 

Sanada can't help a harsh laugh at that. He remembers the day it was coined like it was yesterday: a bunch of teenagers gathered in a dingy basement around a repurposed hospital bed, faces pinched with fear and unease. It had been the first time they'd faced the harsh reality of this world, the realisation of how inherently unfair it could be. 

It had been Yukimura's illness that sparked the birth of Rikkai, even though the organisation has evolved so far beyond that since then. Sanada knows that at the fringes, there's no use in forcing them to revolve around their leader. As long as they follow his philosophy, it's good enough. But their core — all of them who'd been there that first day, who'd sworn the oath together — they all know what they're fighting for. Sanada makes sure that they don't forget their roots, and he knows he'll never forget his. 

"Losing is unacceptable." 

Sanada says the words like the oath they are — the oath he'd sworn to the slim, fragile figure in the bed that day, with eyes that were saddened but resolute. An oath for the change and revolution that they would fight for. Had been fighting for, all those years since then. He believes in the law as deeply as he does Yukimura. It's his law, after all, and he holds himself to even stricter standards than the rest of Rikkai does. 

"It is." Yukimura leans in, breath warm on Sanada's lips. "I won't lose, Genichirou." 

In reply, Sanada takes the offered kiss, hand coming up to clench tightly in Yukimura's hair. All of them are fighting for a revolution, and Sanada fights with them for that, but that doesn't mean that's all he fights for. More than that, after all, Sanada will always fight for Yukimura. 

Sanada will fight, always, until the day Yukimura no longer has to walk that precarious balance on the precipice. 

After all, losing is unacceptable. 


End file.
